Person:Katherine Fisher (7)

A history of Katherine "Witty Kate" or "Witty Kitty" Fisher is recorded in Greene's Pioneer Mothers of America, pp. 414-20

She was married to Thomas Steele in 1745.They settled at Fishing Creek, South Carolina, one mile from the Catawba River, after moving from Pennsylvania. There they established Steele's Fort, a structure which provided them and others in the neighborhood protection from the Cherokee Indians. While the men would be away on trading expeditions, the women often had to gather inside of the fort in order to hide from the Indians. "Witty Kitty of the Fort" was responsible for teaching the women how to shoot and defend themselves in their husbands' absences. She had a quick mind and a good sense of humor. Katherine and her son, Capt. John Steele, were heroes in the Revolutionary War.

Her husband, Thomas, was killed on a trading expedition in 1763 on the Mississippi River.  The group was ambushed by Indians; his body was never recovered.

Katherine was born circa 1725 and died in 1785.She was about 21 or 22 when she married.

She attended Waxhaw Presbyterian Church in Lancaster Co., Pennsylvania

GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK Philadelphia, April 1850 HEROIC WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION. BY MRS. E. F. ELLET. KATHARINE STEEL; OR, "KATY OF THE FORT." *

THIS heroine was of a stamp rarely seen or described in recent times. It needed a primitive country, as well as unusual hardships and perils, to develop such lofty, yet unambitious heroism; such sagacity mingled with homely simplicity; such a spirit of patience, constancy, and self-sacrifice, without an aspiration for praise, or a thought of reward. In one prominent character of that period, we may see a type of many who lived and labored like her, unappreciated by those around them, unknown in the annals of their land, unconscious themselves of the influence they exercised, or the value of their freely rendered services. The memory of these stout-hearted, high-souled matrons is well-nigh swept from the earth; but here and there recollections survive, by which we may learn how noble was the race that nursed the nation's infancy.

Katharine Fisher was a native of Pennsylvania. When about twenty years old, she was married to Thomas Steel, of the same State. Both belonged to the race called the Pennsylvania Irish, so many of whom emigrated to Carolina about the middle of the century. Katharine had this destination in view at the time of her marriage, and, being of a mirthful disposition, as well as romantic and fond of adventure, she looked upon it as quite a matter of frolic to lead the life of a pioneer on the borders of the wilderness. The young pair made their removal to South Carolina some time in 1745, to the upper, or what is called the granite region of the State. Their first acquaintance in the country resided upon the eastern side of the river called Catawba, after the tribe of Indians who were located on its banks. He was a Scotchman named Daniel McDonald, one of the same people with themselves, and had lived some fifteen or twenty years in his present home, among the Indians, in entire seclusion from any of the white race. The Catawbas was gentle in disposition, and lived in friendship with the settlers; McDonald probably reaped some advantage from their protection, for he was the first pioneer into that district of country, and had amassed considerable wealth, and reared a large family of sons and daughters. The new comers into the wild crossed the river near his house, and fixed their residence close to Fishing Creek, about a mile from the Catawba. It was not long before the young wife began to understand what was to be the life of pioneers. She was too light-hearted, however, to be discouraged by hardships, and, with the good-humor which is the best philosophy, endeavored to find food for merriment in the various inconveniences they had to encounter. She spared not her own strength, not shrinking from her share of labor in the field or the woods, she also learned, in a short time, the use of the rifle, and became an excellent shot.

They were not long solitary; the two currents of emigration, from Charleston and the sea-coast on the one side, and Pennsylvania and Virginia on the other, meeting in this neighborhood, in the course of a few years several other families came to settle near them. John Gaston had taken up his abode a mile or so up Fishing Creek, on the west side, and other dwellings rose at intervals in different directions. These families visited each other, going up and down the creek in canoes. In time, it became necessary to unite in their defense against the hostile Indians—the Cherokees giving them much trouble. The place owned by Mr. Steel was fortified as a block-house, to which the inhabitants could betake themselves when danger threatened. These block-houses were scattered over the country at convenient distances for the unprotected settlers. One was at Landsford, near the spring; it commanded the river and a large extent of country, and was called Taylor's Fort; while the first mentioned was named Steel's Fort, after the proprietor. While the men were out fighting the Cherokees, or engaged in providing for the defense and maintenance of their families, the women were in the habit of resorting, on any alarm, to this place of refuge. Mrs. Steel was chief and ruler among them, not merely by her right of ownership, or her superior firmness and courage, but by virtue of her hearty kindness and good-humor. She was called, familiarly, "Master of the Fort." and more frequently, "Katy of the Fort," Possessing great influence, she could at once calm the fears of the women who had quitted their homes at the dead hours of night to flee thither; they felt, in fact, a sense of security in her presence. She taught the young girls the use of the rifle, a useful accomplishment in those days, when no one knew what hour she might be compelled to wield that deadly weapon, relying on her skill in its use to save herself or her children from the hands of bloody savages.. For weeks together, the females would occupy the fort in the absence of their husbands or fathers. Their place of public worship, the attendance on which was never willingly neglected, was the Waxhaw meeting-house, in after years the scene of so much suffering and such disinterested benevolence.

Some thrilling incidents of peril, and hair-breadth 'scapes, and female prowess, are related of this period, the settlers near the frontier being peculiarly exposed to Indian ravages. The Cherokees were very hostile to the Carolinians; the Catawbas being uniformly friendly in their dealings. About this time, Mrs. Steel had some friends who lived on the Yadkin, in North Carolina, ninety miles from her home. When she wished to pay them a visit, she was accustomed to take her child, a year old, twelve miles distance, to the house of Robert Brown, the nearest neighbor she had in the direction of the Yadkin. Leaving the infant in their care, she would proceed alone on horseback, making her way through the Catawba nation, and traveling through a wild country which might be called uninhabited; for so sparse was the population that, from Camden to the Catawba nation, a distance of sixty miles, there were but four houses of white settlers. Our heroine was unsurpassed in the qualities of a horsewoman, nor was she impeded by trifling inconveniences or dangers. She probably gave each of the four settlers a call, as she passed on to visit her friends, and on her return; though tradition preserves no instance of her needing their assistance or hospitality. A hardy race of women must the wives of the pioneers have been!

In 1763, Thomas Steel, with James Hemphill and Stephen White, left home on a trading expedition, taking with them pack-horses, loaded with articles suited for traffic with the Indians. Steel was an experienced trader, having frequently performed such journeys, and was acquainted with the Indian language. He and his companions were absent a year or more, going through the far West to the Mississippi, where they took canoes and went down the river to New Orleans. On their return homeward, they were taken by some Indians, who stripped them of everything, even to their clothes; but they escaped with their lives, and succeeded in getting back into the French settlements. White was a blacksmith, and worked at his business to procure clothes and food for himself and his companions. Having been thus refitted for the journey, they set out once again, traveling through the primitive forest. One morning, when they were about to resume their journey, Steel had chanced to walk out of sight. The others waited for his return, and, after some time, heard a gun discharged at a distance. They quitted their place of encampment in haste, to go in search of him; but their search was fruitless; nor did their missing companion ever come back. They supposed he had been killed when they heard the gun fired, and that his body was either carried off by the murderer, or so concealed in the woods that no search availed to find it. Certain of his death, they pursued their way home, bearing the sad news to his family. Mrs. Steel was now left alone, with a family of three daughters and two sons, and she devoted all her energies to their careful training, instructing them in all things useful, and teaching them to labor not only for their own benefit, but the good of the community. The sterling principles she instilled into their minds produced their fruit in the actions of after years, when trials, even more severe than any she had undergone in early life, fell to her lot and theirs. Before the year 1780, she had given her daughters in marriage; Margaret to William Wylie, Mary to Robert Archer, Nancy to Thomas Bell: she resided with John, now grown to manhood, and the youngest child, Thomas. She divided the land belonging to her deceased husband equally among the children, giving to each of her daughters a valuable plantation. The lands on the creek—the finest then, and even at this day, in the district—she divided between John and Thomas, making the creek the line. It is worthy of note, that her eldest son, although by the law of primogeniture entitled to claim all the lands, confirmed all his mother's acts, and contentedly received only the portion she assigned him in the distribution. The early recollections of this young man went back to the time of danger from Indian incursion, and it was but natural he should be imbued with strong veneration for the high-spirited mother, with whom he had so often been in the midst of peril, unprotected but by her, sustained by her firmness, encouraged by her boldness, and accustomed to be cheered by her in every reverse or despondency. Always meriting her popular name—"witty Katy of the Fort"—she would laugh away the fears of her timid companions, when she could not reason them into bravery. Her influence over her children, therefore, was not to be wondered at—strengthened as it was by habit and affection when left to her sole care.

The home of Mrs. Steel was at no great distance from that of Justice John Gaston, whose family she and her children often visited, going in canoes up and down the stream. She was in the habit of sending for the newspaper, by which she learned from time to time what was going on during the first years of the war. In their friendly meetings, she and the old Justice would read for one another the news of battles lost and won at the North, and would converse upon subjects then absorbing the attention of every patriot. The sons of Gaston were the companions of her son, and when there was a call for men, John Steel was foremost in proffering his services. He was at the head of the company from Chester, dispatched against the Cherokee Indians in the Snow Campaign of 1775. At the battle of Fort Moultrie, on Sullivan's Island, in June, 1776, Steel was also engaged, with seven of the sons of Justice Gaston. At the siege of Savannah, he took part in the charge made under the command of the gallant Count Pulaski; and he was with the troops hovering around to annoy the British army during the siege of Charleston. After the fall of that city, when the news came of the horrible butchery of Buford's men by Tarleton, at the Waxhaw, John Steel was among those assembled at the house of Justice Gaston. With his brave companions, he stood there, appealing solemnly to the God of battles, to pledge their oath that they would never accept British protection, nor lay down the arms they had taken up in defense of their country while there remained an enemy in the land. How must the mother of that hero have exulted in the knowledge that her first-born displayed a spirit worthy of her, and did such honor to her lessoning!

On that memorable morning, when the devoted little band went forth from Justice Gaston's to make the attack upon the British, at what is now called Beckhamville, Katharine Steel called upon her younger son, the only child remaining with her, and then about seventeen years of age, to go out with the rest. "You must go now," she said to him, "and fight the battles of our country with John. It must never be said that the old Squire's boys have done more for the liberty of their country than the Widow Steel's!"

"It was a solemn morning," would John Steel say afterwards, in telling of it. "Some of those who had come to join us over night, had gone off and left us, deeming it too perilous an enterprise for a handful of men to attack two or three hundred—many of them British soldiers. We had sworn solemnly before high Heaven, and our resolution was like the law of the Medes and Persians—not to be altered. As we started off, there came up eight men from Sandy River, who had been traveling all night. This was a bright spot like the sun coming out from under a cloud! We felt that our men were true men."

After the surprise and dispersion of Sumter's corps on Fishing Creek, in which John Steel saved the General's life, he was sent back with a force of some fifteen men to find a valise, containing public papers of importance, that had been dropped near the spot, and to collect recruits wherever he could, and bring them to join Sumter, who intended to rally his forces at Charlotte. When he reached the place of the late disastrous surprise, he learned that the valise had been found and carried off by a Tory from the Wateree, but, following him he obtained possession of it. On his way back, he chanced to meet the wife of one of his acquaintances, and stopped to bid her tell her husband that all patriots were summoned to meet their General at Charlotte, and that he must come and join him the next morning at Neely's, on Fishing Creek, whence he could go on with his party. Steel was not aware that the man to whom he sent the message had turned loyalist. The woman, of course, immediately carried the news to her husband, who set out to collect Tories for the purpose of intercepting Captain Steel, Traveling all night through the neighborhood, for the attack was to be at Neely's on the following morning.

Meanwhile the brave Captain, suspecting no treachery, reached his home late that night, and once more embraced the excellent mother who had trained him to his present career of duty. Early the next morning he set off for Neely's, about four miles distant, Mrs. Steel accompanying him on horseback. Proud was she that the gallant son riding by her side had risked his life in the country's service; that by his prompt and courageous efforts he had saved his General from being captured by the British in the late attack; proud was she of his bold recovery of the papers, and his energetic appeal to his countrymen to arm themselves and rally round the standard of liberty. Her heart swelled with exultation as she saw men on all sides responding to the call; and if some anxiety for the safety of her children and neighbors mingled with her patriotic joy, she had before her eyes the battles of Rocky Mount and Hanging Rock, and had good hope that they would return victorious. No motives of ambition were blended with her enthusiasm, nor did the services of her son receive any reward save the consciousness of having nobly performed his duty. His name and his brave deeds, which should have been remembered and recorded with those of the heroes of the Revolution, have been honored only in the section of country where he lived, and among the descendants of those who were his companions.

When the party arrived at Neely's, Mrs. Neely and some of her daughters immediately busied themselves in preparing breakfast. The horses were hitched to the trees in the yard, and two other daughters of the landlady who had several daughters went out into the cornfield to keep watch. All was silent for some time; at length a man, named Andrew Lockart, left the premises, followed by David McCanee, a young lad, to get his horse from the pasture. While going through the field, he saw a body of Tories, in two divisions, approaching through the standing corn. The leader, whom he recognized as Coonrod Huntersuck, one of his near neighbors and a noted loyalist, waved his hand at him in token that he should keep silence. Lockart paid no heed to his signal, but halloed with all his might to give the alarm at the house. Thereupon another of the advancing party—one David Ferguson, of Wateree—snapped his gun at him; Lockart then, taking deliberate aim at the leader, fired and cut off his bridle reins, crippling one of his fingers, and, not stopping to see the effect, turned and fled precipitately. In his flight, he fell into a deep gully, which probably saved him, for the Tories' shots passed over him as he lay still. Coonrod's horse, in the mean time, taking fright, ran away with him before he could recover his control of the bridle. This accident, in all likelihood, saved the party at the house. From the hallow where he lay, not venturing to move, Lockart heard firing at the house, with the shouts of the Tories crying, "Well done Scoggins!" &c. When he found they were out of the way, he came out from his concealment as far as the stream called Rocky Branch. Hearing steps approaching, he took up a large stone to fling at the supposed foe, but it proved to be only the boy, McCanee, who narrowly escaped being killed by the missile. While the two stood there, they saw the whole body of Tories going off, evidently disappointed of their expected prey; and, sure of the escape of their friends, both lost no time in catching their horses, and started at their utmost speed for Charlotte, not knowing but that a reinforcement of loyalists might suddenly arrive.

At the time of the alarm, Mrs. Steel was engaged in combing the Captain's head. He boasted a remarkably fine head of hair; it was very long, and of raven blackness and was usually worn tied in a queue behind. John's important services to the Whig cause, employing him almost night and day, had of late left him little leisure for attention to his locks; they had been long uncombed, and probably showed very plainly the neglect they had experienced. The personal appearance of her son was a matter of pride to the matron, only less than her delight in his gallant conduct; she loved to see him look well, for he was a fairer image of herself. With her features, he inherited her high qualities of mind and heart; he regarded her with reverence as well as affection, and never in his life had disobeyed her. She had instilled into him the principles which guided herself; she had breathed into him her own romantic and unconquerable spirit. It was a common remark at the time, and afterwards, that any one who might chance to overhear the conversation between the mother and son, not knowing who they were, might suppose from its tone and tenor that two young men were discoursing upon some animating theme. The disasters that from time to time had overtaken the American arms, could not discourage their hopes, nor subdue their ardor. "We are in the right!" Mrs. Steel would repeat; and that knowledge was the source of confidence and comfort through every trial.

To return—while thus occupied, they heard the sharp crack of the rifle, followed immediately by Lockart's warning shouts, and the screams of the young girls who had been stationed in the field. In a moment after, several guns were fired in quick succession, and the girls were seen running towards the house, while the two divisions of the enemy, at no great distance behind them, could be perceived advancing through the standing corn. Not an instant was to be lost; yet such was the effect of sudden surprise on the brave men who, only two days before, had been taken unawares on Fishing Creek, that they seemed utterly at a loss what to do. Mrs. Steel alone retained perfect self-possession. Starting up, she called to the men, "You must fight!" but, directly after, seeing the confusion that prevailed, she shouted an order for them to "clear themselves" as fast as possible. She urged her son to mount his horse at once, and save the public papers in his charge, while she pulled down the bars to let out him and his men. John was quick in all his movements, and it may easily be conceived that no time was now wasted. The Captain, first in the saddle, spurred his noble horse towards the bars, which he cleared at a bound—his mother having had no time yet to let them down—and galloped off. He was followed by James Harbinson, a youth of eighteen, and the greater number of his men, for whom Mrs. Steel removed the bars as fast as she could; several, however, were slower in getting off, and paid the penalty of their delay, being now exposed to the fire of the advancing Tories. About fifty guns were discharged at the bars; two of the Whigs, William Anderson and James Barber, fell dead from their horses, bearing Mrs. Steel under them to the ground. Another, William Latta, received wounds of which he expired in a few days; three others, also severely wounded, succeeded in making their way to the house of McFadden, one of the neighbors. Robert McFadden, who could not get his horse, in leaping the bars had part of his foot shot off; Samuel McCanee, riding at full speed up the lane, received a shot in the hip; and John Lockart's...

...Capt. John Steel, who has been called " the Murat of the Catawba river," was in every engagement during the summer of 1780. On one occasion when the little army were surprised by the British troops, in the night, Capt. Steel caught Gen. Sumpter, in his arms and carried him to a place of safety. He continued in active service during the campaign of 1781. In the spring fol- lowing, he was married to Margaret Beard. Thomas Steel, the younger brother, married the sister of Margaret. Katherine Steel showed no less of the truly heroic in her character, in her labors after the establishment of peace, than in the darkest hour of the actual struggle. Her days were ended at the old fort in 1785.

She was surrounded by her children, all of whom were married. Her eldest son, who had fought so many battles, was killed in 1812, by a fall from his horse ; her daughter Margaret was married to Thomas Wylie ; Mary to Robert Archer ; Nancy to Thomas Bell.

The descendants of this family of Steels have removed to the west, and are scattered through different States. The only one remaining in South Carolina is Mrs. Jane Thompson, the daughter of Capt. John Steel.